


31

by PhryneFicathon, Yeoyou



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Epistolary, F/M, Reunion, Snapshots, long time separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhryneFicathon/pseuds/PhryneFicathon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeoyou/pseuds/Yeoyou
Summary: It’s been 31 years since Phryne flew back to England. It’s been 31 years since she asked Jack to come after her. Only he never did. Now she’s back in Melbourne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meldanya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meldanya/gifts).



> This prompt deserved a writer who’s better at plotting and historical research (and figuring out reasons for the long separation). As it is, there’s a lot of handwaving and vagueness but hopefully also much to be enjoyed. Best read while listening to light jazz and swing playlists – which got me through writing this! Thanks, people on youtube! Also HUGE THANKS to my pals on Tumblr who cheered me on, even though some aren’t even in the fandom. AND to chanihobbit and kawaiibooker for their help and encouragement! You guys are the best ♥

_The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher prided herself in always taking great care in how she dressed. She enjoyed the power that comes from the right fashion and wielded that power well. She also did not believe in hiding her age or her body. And both had been very kind to her throughout the years._

_Phryne was always impeccably dressed but this day warranted extra care. It was a special occasion and one she had waited thirty-one years for!_

_She tried not to wonder too much, while she carefully selected her dress and accessories. How much she had changed. How much_ he _had changed. Whether the spark would still be there, their easy friendship and their less-easy attraction. Whether Jack Robinson would have become a stranger in the years spent apart._

_It didn’t do to worry too much. She wouldn’t know until she’d seen him and wouldn’t be able to change whatever their reaction would be upon seeing each other again. She couldn’t change the past. But the worry nibbled at her nevertheless._

_Phryne didn’t do constant but if there had ever been a man who had tempted her, it was the Inspector. There had been promise in every touch and every smile they had exchanged but it wasn’t that which had once, so long ago, tempted her. Phryne was too used to the enticing promises of men. No, it had been something else and for the longest time, she hadn’t been able to figure it out. But, a world apart and thrown into another war, she had identified the feeling as security. He had been her safety line. The one who could reel her back in if she flew too high, the one she could trust to steady and hold her as she roamed free._

_Once upon a time, she had asked him to come after her when she flew back to England to deliver her father home in the hopes of saving her parents’ marriage._

_But Jack Robinson had never come._

_And now Phryne was back in Australia, dressed in muted colours in respect to her mother’s passing, and feeling more nervous than she had in years. It was silly. She was no schoolgirl, nor even a young woman anymore by any definition. Yet here she was, walking the length of her hotel suite, still striding with long, quick steps that made her feel caged in all the more. Every second turn, she studied her image in the mirror above the fireplace, counting the lines in her face, the veins on her hands and remembering how black her hair had been when she had last seen him._

_“Nonsense!” Phryne straightened up and threw her head back. “I’m still Phryne Fisher and any man would be lucky to have me!” Her eyes sparkled defiantly, lit with their old fire and her blood red lips stretched into a smile._

_And then she heard what she had been hoping and waiting for. Somebody was knocking on her door._

\---------------------------------

My dearest Mrs Collins,

I wonder, have you become used to people addressing you this way yet? I’ve been told newly-wedded women take pleasure from being called by their husband’s name. I admit, a pleasure I cannot fully comprehend but I do hope you know how happy I am for you! Both of you! I am still so very grateful that I was able to attend your wedding. It seems ages ago already. But Mrs Collins or not, you will forever remain my dearest Dot!

I trust you were able to enjoy your honeymoon – I will spare you with questions about details! – and were not too worried about me. Poor Hugh has had to compete with me for your attention for so long, I’m sure he’s happy I’m off the continent and not involving you in any dangerous adventures for the foreseeable future! You know I can take care of myself, so please turn all your attention to your new family and happiness – as long as you don’t forget about me completely!

The flight to London is a tedious one. Much as I love flying and exploring, I find travelling with my father rather strenuous. Of course he has abandoned his tendency to run off now that he is no longer hunted by his own cousin but his anxiousness whether we will be in time to save his marriage is rubbing off on me.

I love my parents but I love them better from a distance. I’m sure the same is true for their relationship to me. I admit, I have often found my mother’s patience with my father rather incomprehensible and have wondered how she could stand his escapades for so long. But I do not wish to see them separated. “She is the love of my life,” my father admitted to me and I suppose he must be hers or they wouldn’t have stayed together for so long. And losing Janey … I cannot even begin to imagine what it must have done to them and to their relationship!

Will you think less of me if I admit that I never much considered the effect of her loss on them? I’m afraid we can become rather selfish people where our own family members are concerned since their existence is always tied to their relationship to us. It is easy to forget the person behind the parent.

I’ve gotten new glimpses of this person that is my father and insofar, this voyage is a good one, but some days I curse the distance between Melbourne and London!

Melbourne. I miss it already, Dot. And what’s more, the people I have left behind. I did not expect to become so attached to the place and the people when I returned to Australia but after stumbling over that first murder scene, and you, and a certain police inspector, my life took many an unexpected turn. And I am grateful for all of them. Well, most of them anyway.

I have just received the signal that the plane is refuelled so will close this letter now. Please give my love to everyone!

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Mac,

how I wish you were here to calm my nerves and drink tea – or much stronger stuff – with me! Or rather, I wish I could be back in Melbourne with you! 

To make it short: we were on time. My mother and father have reconciled and I thought I would be free to fly home again, my job done. But no, they insist, positively insist! __ _,_ that I stay a while and celebrate their rekindled love with them!

You know me well enough to picture how thrilled I am with that. But I have been away a long time and so I suppose it is my duty to grant my parents this wish. And so I will stay a little while yet.

I forgot how grey London is. It hardly seems to matter what time of year it is! At least the men are handsome and Parisian fashion is much easier and cheaper to come by. I spend most of my time shopping when I’m not playing the prodigal daughter. I may or may not be the talk of the town … society and gossip are the same no matter where on the globe you are. Still, I make the best of my notoriety and enjoy life in London as best I can.

Even though I would much rather be back home with you and the rest. Please tell me how everyone is! How are Dot and Hugh settling in? How are our favourite cab drivers? And Aunt Prudence? And Jack?

And how are you, my dearest friend? Have you broken some hearts of late? Have you had any interesting corpses? How is life in Melbourne?

Please tell me everything!

Love, Phryne

P.S.: I may also have agreed to stay longer because I’m hoping a certain someone of our acquaintance will join me in England shortly. I’m sure you can guess who. I’d never admit it to anyone but you but I am a bit nervous and excited. I wonder if he’s already left by the time this letter reaches you?

-//-

Dear Jack,

I’d say you conjured up this case just to avoid following after me but I know I could not expect you to shirk your duties and run off to Europe when there is a serial killer at large. I wish I could help you out and damn my father for making me leave Melbourne at such a time but much as I wish you were here with me, I’m glad those women have you to look out for them. And I know that you are quite capable of catching killers without me, even if I’d like to think that I was of invaluable help to you on our cases.

I hope you do not feel too abandoned. I know you can still count on Hugh and Dot, and Cec and Bert will – however grudgingly perhaps – surely lend their help as well. It reassures me to know you surrounded with friends in these trying times.

Take care of yourself, Jack!

Phryne

-//-

My dear Aunt Prudence,

thank you so much for your last letter. Mother and father are doing well, everything considered. I suppose it was too much to hope that their squabbles would be behind them. But all in all, I do think they’re very happy together even if Mother scolded him something fierce – and rightly so! – after our arrival and having been told the whole awful story.

I am so glad to know that Mr. Butler and Cec and Bert are taking such good care of you. I know you never needed my help – unless a murder was involved, that is – but I was worried when I had to leave so suddenly. And for much longer than I expected. But knowing you in good hands is a great relief. Please give my love to everyone.

Love, your Phryne

P.S.: It seems I’ll stay a bit longer yet. Mother has a remarkable talent to get me entangled with all sorts of society and charity events and I’m “invaluable” to her and have been “gone so long.” I think this may run in the family. I still haven’t forgotten how you talked me into hosting that charity event with you to help Lydia Andrews on my first day back in Australia! Anyway, mother is really quite adept at wielding the guilt, so I’ll be here for a while …

-//-

Dear Mac,

he still hasn’t left has he? I admit I was so sure he would but now … maybe it was foolish to hope that he’d cross half the world for me. 

Well, I’m not pining, if that’s what you think. But you know me too well for that, don’t you? I may have hoped my life in England would look differently by now but maybe it is for the best. I honestly cannot say.

But enough about that. I’ve renewed some old friendships and struck up new ones so you mustn’t think I’m lonely. On the contrary, I’m so much in society these days, I’m almost longing for some quiet weeks in the country. And no, I don’t even need to see your face, I can hear you say that even I aren’t getting any younger quite well in my head, thank you very much. It’s not the same though, is it? 

Let’s hope you can say these things to my face again soon!

Love, Phryne 

-//-

Dearest Dot,

I just received your letter and though I have not counted them, it seems to consist to a third out of thank yous! As if you had to thank me for calling when I got your telegram announcing little Margaret’s birth. It was good to hear your voice again, dear Dot, even long-distance. I miss you all dreadfully though, with a baby in the house, maybe it is best for all involved that I am in Europe. I’m very touched that you and Hugh want me as her godmother and of course I’ll say yes – even though I’m not sure how much good it will do her if I am so very far away!

I’m sad to say that I still don’t know when I’ll be able to return to Melbourne. At least I had another case last month. Nothing exciting, just a burglary, but I was grateful for the diversion though I did miss my trusted companion. How did I ever do things without you?!

I am very glad to hear that your marriage brings you so much joy. I hope that joy will never leave you, even though you have many sleepless nights ahead of you, as it seems. 

Thank you so much for your stories of how everyone is doing! I hope you will continue to keep me up to date with everyone’s life while I’m stuck here. That way your note taking skills won’t go to waste, so a win-win situation for both of us!

Mother and father are getting along remarkably well but still insist on keeping me here. I’m indulging them for the moment but I have not made any promises for how long I will stay. I’m not particularly enjoying the current state of Europe, the fear mongering and hatred that seems to seep into all parts of society. Pray for me, Dot, that I can flee it soon.

Please give my love to everyone and an extra kiss for Margaret.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Jack,

what shocking news I’ve had from Melbourne! One really cannot leave you alone, it seems! And then I hear it from Dot and Mac and even Cec but not from you? Really, I must protest!

I’m just glad to know that you are safe and no more harm was done. Mac wrote that she has high hopes for the full recovery of your leg? I certainly cross all my fingers and other body parts for you that she will be right. She is a very good doctor though so I trust her judgment.

Poor Jack, how you must hate all the pity and attention. I trust Dot and Hugh keep you in sufficient supply of proper meals so you won’t wither away? What a shame it would be!

Rest and take care and try not to kill yourself out of boredom, Jack.

Phryne

-//-

Dear Mac,

please take good care of him, will you? I know, it’s silly, of course you will. Don’t frown. Distance makes the heart grow fonder … isn’t that what they say? I know it was true for me and my parents when we were separated. It was so much easier to love them from Australia! ~~Not that I~~ Whatever else may have happened between Jack and me, I’ll expect I’ll always care about him.

Please give my love to everyone.

Phryne

-//-

Dear Jack,

I’m so glad to hear you’re doing better. I’d say it was about time you got promoted, too! Such an excellent inspector. Victoria Police is lucky they have you!

I’m doing fine but the political atmosphere in England, and Europe in general!, is growing more foul. Sometimes, I’m afraid that another war is inevitable and then even I am tempted to pray that it won’t come to that. What is it about the human animal that it has such difficulty with living in peace? And just treating everyone with basic respect? It really shouldn’t be that hard! 

I wish things were better at home but Father has fallen ill and Mother worries and of course, again, I am forced to stay in England as a comfort to them both. This time at least there’s a silver lining because Jane is finally making it to London next month and I can’t wait. I haven’t seen her in so long and I’m sure she’s all grown up and an adult now. It will be good to have her with me and then we can talk of the good old days in Melbourne.

I hope everyone is doing well back home? There were some troubling undertones in Dot’s last letter about her pregnancy. Not that she wrote anything about any health problems but I think I know her well enough by now to read between the lines. I’m sure she’s holding up with all her remarkable strength while Hugh worries himself sick about her. But maybe he’s gotten a lot more self-assured by now? I haven’t seen him for so long and he’s been a married man for three years now; and married to Dot after all!

Three years! Has it really been that long?! Time flies indeed, even if nothing seems to happen! Of course I do try to keep occupied. And with my parents, my mother’s charities and society events, and plenty of handsome shops and men in London, there are enough things to do and things to amuse me but I still would much rather be at home.

I hope _you_ are not spending every evening at home, Superintendent Jack Robinson? You deserve to live and have fun!

Take care, Jack.

Phryne

-//-

Dearest Jane,

how wonderful (and much too short) your visit was! I loved having you with me in London and spoiling you and just enjoying the company of the remarkable woman you’ve grown up to be. Sending you to Europe, though a difficult decision, seems to have been the right one after all. I’m glad you’re having such a great time and learning all these interesting things. If mother wasn’t so worried about father, I’d have loved to go back to Paris with you. As it is, I hope I will be able to squeeze in a short visit soon anyway. 

Stay safe and have fun, my dear.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Jack,

we’ve had a war to end all wars and yet here we are, at the doorstep of yet another. As if all the blood shed and all the death and all the destroyed lives of the first meant nothing. 

I’m glad to know that neither you nor Cec or Bert will be on the frontlines of this war. But Dot wrote that Hugh enlisted and I cannot begin to imagine how Dot must feel about that. I know I do not need to ask you to look after her but please indulge me when I do it anyway. I’ll rest easier knowing she’s got a good friend in you. I think I recall that you’re little Stephen’s godfather? He’s luckier than Peggy; poor girl has never even met her godmother. But from what Dot writes about her, it seems she’s a girl quite after my heart and how Dot and Hugh ended up with such a wild child is anyone’s guess. Please look after her, too, will you? Since I cannot be there for her. 

Thank you, Jack. And please take care of yourself, too!

Phryne

-//-

Dearest Dot,

thank you for your prayers. So far, we’ve been lucky but the constant bombings at night fray our nerves and sleeping in a room with loads of strangers deep underground without knowing whether you will still have a home by the morning is not an enjoyable experience and especially straining for my parents. We all do what we can to help of course but it is never enough. Still, every little bit is better than nothing. 

I had really hoped I’d never have to put my wartime nurse training to use again but how can I not be glad for having that knowledge now when it helps me save lives (and limbs). But it is exhausting and I cannot sleep at night. My parents are doing charity work that keeps them well occupied and I am glad they don’t have to see the daily horrors of war as I do.

We’re holding on. It’s really the only thing we can do. I’m sure you know plenty of that yourself, with three children, and a husband at the front. At least Peggy and Sarah are old enough to help you with your work. But from what Peggy wrote to me, I can tell she is worried about you as well as her father and so I worry too. Please take care and don’t overwork yourself. All help is appreciated but please promise me that you will at least attempt to still enjoy life. I know, it’s asking much but writing from the heart of the Blitzkrieg, I cannot stress enough how important it is to be grateful for life!

Give my love to everyone.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dearest Mac,

isn’t it ironic that the first time since coming back to England, my parents are actually pushing me to return to Melbourne? And that now I won’t go? But mother and father won’t leave and how could I leave them behind or turn my back on the people who need me here? 

I’m sure you’d hardly recognise me. It’s difficult to hold onto style and fashion when there’s a war raging on. But I have to believe that those days will return once this wretched war is over. And it will be over. And we will have won. Not because we can but because we must. There’s no alternative to that, really. 

Please look after Dot and her kids, will you? I can’t imagine how much she must worry about Hugh. I worry too and every day dread reading through the lists of the fallen. Let’s all hope that Dot’s prayers will protect him.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Aunt Prudence,

thank you ever so much for your latest care package. We’ve received it with great joy and, I’m afraid, distributed it to beyond the family. I know you worry a lot about us; Mr Butler and Bert have both mentioned it in their letters. I wish I could spare you the pain but I really don’t know how. At least, I can be there for my parents and help them through this. I’m glad for that and I hope you will be, too. 

They send their love and thanks.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Mac,

finally, finally, this dreadful war is over! I’m sure this joy is felt all over the world, but London is especially drunk on relief these days and I have been celebrating non-stop. I can’t recall when I’ve last been this happy and emotional! It seems lifetimes ago. Of course, life doesn’t just go back to how things were before. They never do. But the future is decidedly less bleak.

Pray tell me you’ve celebrated exhaustively, too! I also hope things are going well between you and your friend Hayley. She sounds very lovely and I’m glad she keeps you good company. I’d love to meet her one day! Until then, I send you all my love!

Phryne

-//-

Dearest Dot, 

of course I’d be happy to welcome Margaret in London and take her under my wing. If you truly trust me with your daughter? But then she sounds as if she doesn’t need me to find any adventures on her own. I’ve loved receiving photos of her over the years and watch her grow but finally meeting her will be marvelous. She’s quite the young lady now, isn’t she? But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her and won’t drag her into anything too scandalous!

How are Sarah and Stephen? And how is Hugh? I know a war changes people and good souls suffer the most from the horrors of the front so I hope he’s doing alright. Having a loving family and wife surely helps.

And how are you, my dear Dot? You always write about your family and everyone else and any news that might interest me and I am grateful for all of that but I also want to know how you are doing! 

Please write back soon with all the details of Peggy’s travel plans and details of how you are so I won’t have to pry them from your daughter!

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dearest Dot,

Margaret arrived this morning, just as planned, and – a little awkwardness in the beginning aside – we’re getting along splendidly. Looking at her, there’s really no doubt that she’s your and Hugh’s daughter. His eyes, your smile, and oh so many little details that remind me of you two! It also made me realise just how much I miss my friends in Melbourne. 

Anyway, she’s resting right now, but then we’re off to a tour of London’s sights and dinner, where we can discuss all our plans for the next days. I’m sure they will be exhausting and exciting! She seems criminally young but it’s also a fresh breeze in the house. It doesn’t do to get too musty. I’m sure there will be many more letters to come, detailing our adventures and daring-dos but I just wanted to let you know she’s here and safe, because I know you worry.

Give my love to Hugh, Sarah, and Stephen, and everybody else!

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Cec,

I heard congratulations are in order and you and Alice are soon to be grandparents! I still have trouble imagining you as parents but I will try to keep up. At least you two are still young and beautiful in my mind so that’s something! And I hope the same applies to me in your minds, too!

I’ve selected a little present for your grandchild and I hope she or he will enjoy it. Give my love to your wife and children.

Affectionately, Phryne Fisher

-//-

Dear Aunt Prudence,

Father died this morning. It was not a surprise; his doctor had prepared us, of course, but one is never truly prepared, is one? Mother takes it hard and between being there for her and arranging everything, I don’t know what to feel. There hardly seems time to feel anything at all!

I know mother would welcome a letter from you with comforting words, even though you never did like my father much. But he truly did try to make mother happy ever since we returned and I think he did succeed; as much as anyone can when a war breaks out, of course.

Please write soon.

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Peggy,

thank you so much for your last letter. It sounds like you’re having quite some adventures and continue to make your parents fret and worry. I’m all for enjoying life but please make sure they don’t worry too much. I know parents can be annoying, and maybe it’s a fundamental law of the universe that they are, but your parents are very good people and I care about them a good deal. So please do it for your favourite godmother, will you?

You also have to tell me everything about that Daniel fellow you mentioned. He sounds quite dreamy! I’m sure your parents would love it if you settled down; do they nag you a lot about that? At least they have me as a good example that a woman does not need to settle down to be happy; which most other parents don’t have. I hope you’re sufficiently grateful! However, if they should have forgotten that particular lecture, please tell me and I will write to remind them.

Jane sends her love along with that book you two apparently talked about? I’ve enclosed it together with a few things for your mother and a shawl which I just know will look lovely on you! It will bedazzle your Daniel or any other young man you might want to impress!

Love, Phryne

-//-

Dear Mr Butler,

I cannot express my gratitude enough for that box of cookies you sent! They arrived safely and didn’t last very long upon arrival! I am glad to know that you’re still delighting the people around you – and continents away! – with your baking skills, even in retirement! 

I am sure your services will be missed by my aunt but knowing you, you will still be ready to assist with your knowledge whenever she needs help. Truly, I never met a butler even half as capable as you and I’ve missed your mind-reading capabilities very much ever since coming to England. You always knew just when a stiff drink was in order to pick up my spirits!

How is your garden coming along? Dot tells me wonderous things about it! If you can manage it, I’d love to see some photographs so I can properly admire it as well. I’ve enclosed a few things that I thought you would enjoy, together with a recent photograph of Jane. I’d say she is becoming prettier by the hour but then I am biased, I suppose. Still, it is a very pretty picture of her.

Please give my love to everyone.

Yours affectionately, Phryne Fisher

-//-

Dear Jack,

I’m coming home to Australia. I have waited so long to be able to write this and yet the joy I expected isn’t there. Not yet anyway. 

My mother passed away last Monday and I’ve spent this week arranging the funeral and everything else that Death brings with it. 

How is it possible to have so many mixed feelings at once? I grieve and I miss her but I also feel free again for the first time in years. Is that selfish? Whatever it may be, I suppose I have at least some time to sort through it on my flight back to Melbourne. Not that I will fly, personally, this time. You’ll be happy to hear that I will take a commercial plane and thus, will be much faster.

It’s an eternity since I crossed all that distance the last time.

I’ve already booked my rooms at the Windsor and am scheduled to arrive late on April 28th. Will you meet me at the hotel on the 29th? It has been too long since we’ve met and I look forward to seeing all of you again, soon.

Please be there, Jack.

Phryne


	2. Chapter 2

_Chief Superintendent Jack Robinson, retired, took it as an accomplishment that his hands shook just a little as he went through the reassuring routine of tying the knot of his tie. At his age, one had to treasure even the small victories and things were not made easier by the memory lingering in his mind._

_It should have faded by now but he could still feel her fingers, her intoxicating presence when she did him the favour all those years ago. Granted, the memory was a little hazy at the edges, her face and smile and that look in her eye seeming more like something he’d seen in a movie a long time ago than something he’d lived. Or maybe that was because the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher had always been somewhat larger than life, more brilliant, more dazzling than any normal human being had any right to be._

_He grimaced and started again._

_Phryne Fisher, still able to fluster him after all these years. Damn that woman and her influence on his mind._

_But Jack smiled and once he was finally satisfied with the tie, he exhaled deeply, trying to ignore the image of his younger self imposing itself between him and the mirror._

_He hadn’t changed so much that he worried that she wouldn’t recognise him anymore but he couldn’t deny that the last thirty-one years had left their mark on him._

_Thirty-one years!_

_It seemed impossible, the number too high and too small at the same time. So much had happened and so much hadn’t happened. He wasn’t quite sure where they had gone, those years without Phryne Fisher in his life._

_He had once hoped that they would share those years and that life but things hadn’t worked out that way._

_There were many things he regretted but perhaps none as much as not going after her._

_Maybe it wouldn’t have worked out after all, maybe it would have brought them misery and love would have turned to hate, neither quite able to give the other what they wanted and needed. Maybe. But maybe not._

_It was futile to dwell on it, of course, and he had told himself so repeatedly. Always to no avail. Yet he had accepted it a long time ago._

_But now his heart was fluttering and there was a tightness in his chest that he remembered from his youth: the anticipation of seeing her once more._

_He called himself a fool but the image in the mirror smiled._

_Jack Robinson took a deep breath before daring to leave the house and, about half an hour later, another when faced with the door to Miss Fisher’s suite. A door identical to the ten others on the floor but only this door hid Phryne behind it’s innocuous white paint. A long-lost friend or a stranger? He couldn’t say. So he did the only thing he could do._

_Slowly, he raised his hand, balled it into a fist, and, closing his eyes for just a second, gathering courage, he knocked._

\---------------------------------

Dear Phryne,

I hope that you have reached Europe safely and delivered your father in time for your mother to take him back. I admit, the size of your plane was not trust-inspiring, but I do trust you, so I’m sure you managed just fine where others would falter. 

Hopefully, your parents know just how lucky they are to have you as their daughter! Willing to fly across half the world at the drop of a (no doubt stylish) hat.

Melbourne seems all the more dreary for your departure, and, with the Collinses gone as well, all the more empty.

Work calls so I’ll leave this with my hopes of seeing you soon.

Jack

-//-

Dear Phryne,

I am very sorry to tell you that I won’t be able to join you in England at the present time. You might have heard the news that there’s a serial killer making the rounds and I’ve been appointed head of the task force to take him out. At present, we have few clues and too many bodies and I wish I could say that I expect a fast close of this case but I doubt it. 

Of course we have to do without your brilliant mind around but I hope we’ll manage. I just don’t know how long it will take us.

Until then,

Jack

-//-

Dear Phryne,

the exploits of the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher are reaching us even here. It seems you’re charming all of London! I am not surprised, for who could resist it?

I suppose news of the arrest we’ve made have already travelled to England. The public interest in this case and the spotlight on us was intense, to put it mildly. It was a difficult time and I am glad it is over. Of course there will be the trial and everything, which I will have to attend, but I’m confident we’ve provided enough proof and collected enough evidence that William Fenton will be convicted. The world will be better off without him!

I was glad to hear that your trip to England wasn’t in vain. Maybe I’m a sentimentalist but it would have been a shame if a marriage that had lasted so long would have ended right when things could have improved – as indeed they did.

I’m still tied up here with the bureaucratic aftermath of the Fenton case and other matters, so again, can give you no answer as to when I will be able to join you in London.

Jack

-//-

Dear Mac,

I suspect it comes with the job that you worry about everyone’s health but I assure you, I am doing well. The leg doesn’t give me too much trouble other than boredom. At least, I finally have some time to read again and so endeavour to make the most out of this enforced rest.

Mr Butler and Mrs Collins also keep sending cookies so all is well. 

However, if you were to drop by for a nightcap and some company, I’m sure I wouldn’t mind.

Jack Robinson, bored 

-//-

Dear Mr Butler,

I cannot thank you enough for all the cookies and food you’ve sent me during my recovery. I will forever be grateful that Miss Fisher brought you and your cooking and baking skills into my life.

Yours, Jack Robinson

-//-

Dear Jane,

thank you for your last letter. I am glad to hear your studies are progressing so well and that the book I’ve mentioned proved so helpful for you. I know Miss Fisher is very proud of you and she has every reason to be.

I sometimes find it very hard to reconcile the young and accomplished lady you’ve turned into with the street urchin stealing jewels on a train! Who would have thought what would become of you when Miss Fisher took you in. I am glad she did. As are you, no doubt. She is a very generous person and I’ve never met anyone with a bigger heart.

Please give her my best wishes when you see or speak to her next.

My best wishes to you as well, and I would love to continue to hear about your progress, if you feel inclined to share.

Jack Robinson

-//-

Dear Stephen,

your parents asked me today if I would agree to be your godfather and though it will be many years before you can read this, I wanted to write down today how joyed I am at their request. I did not hesitate a second.

You may or may not know by now that I was married for a while, long before you were born. Things fell apart between my wife and I and we were never blessed with children in the time we were together. A fact I always regretted because I would have loved to have a family. At this point, I don’t expect that I ever will have one of my own but I do consider your family as mine. So I do not take on this responsibility lightly and will try to be always there for you with support or advise or whatever else you may need.

Love, Jack

-//-

Dear Mac,

you forgot your gloves at my place. I just found them under my newspaper, of all places! I’ll be happy to return them, if you promise not to nag me about a certain lady detective anymore. I haven’t heard from her in a while and maybe it is for the best. You know better than anyone how different we are. I’ll always be fond of her and wish her well but I think we both moved on from the things that never were.

Please refrain from dredging them up again, if you can! I’d be sorry to miss our nightcaps.

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Jack (and your gloves)

-//-

Dear Rosie,

thank you for your letter. I am glad to hear that you are doing well. Mr Edwards sounds like a good man but if you want me to check into him, I’m more than ready to do that. God knows you deserve a man who can make you happy!

I am fine but you know how it is: there is always work since the criminals of this city never seem to tire. But I’m not complaining.

And no, there is currently no woman in my life. However, I am taking Stephen for a weekend in Ballarat in two weeks time and am looking forward to that. He’s growing up into a bright young man with a keen intellect and interest in science and I wouldn’t wonder if he’d pursue it as a career. But of course he is only seven so maybe it is a bit too early to tell…

Other than that, no news from Melbourne, I’m afraid (and no news from London either).

Love, Jack

-//-

Dear Phryne,

we all hoped that we’d never have to experience another war. The farewell party for Hugh was a somber affair even if we all tried for levity. Thinks only got better when Mac brought out the hard stuff. Now there’s a woman who can take her liquor! The kids were already in bed of course.

I am not ashamed to admit that I tried to persuade him not to go. But of course it was futile, he is too good a man to let others fight for him and his family. Dot was proud and scared and brave. He is lucky to have found her!

And of course I will be there for her and the children, helping however I can. You can rest assured of that. Peggy is holding up remarkably well. That girl has a core of steel to her that you would be proud of. I do hope you two get to meet soon, though with the war going on, it seems unlikely. I suppose it is too much to hope that you’ll flee Europe at this time? You’re too good a woman to leave when others need your help.

This world is not always kind to good men and women. Just stay safe, will you?

Jack

-//-

Dear Hugh,

first of all, let me thank you for your letter and your confidence and trust. I know voicing these concerns cannot have been easy for you as they are for no man and husband.

I cannot predict what the future holds and while I wish that you were spared the horrors of war, I know too well what war up close looks like to believe that anyone can return unchanged from it. 

But regarding your marriage and family, I believe that I can say with great confidence that both will survive this experience. Your relationship with your wife is very different from what my own relationship with my wife was when I went to war. You’ve been married longer and, though I can only make assumptions, happier and on more even and open terms. Your wife, Hugh, is a remarkable woman with an excellent head on her shoulders. Her time with Miss Fisher has certainly trained her to deal with the extraordinary and unsuspected and I have never known her to falter or back down. Trust in her, trust in your mutual love.

And don’t repeat my mistake of closing yourself off from your wife in your letters now and once you’ve returned. She is your partner in this as in everything.

As for your other concerns, I hope you know that I will always be there for Dorothy and the kids, whatever happens to you. You and they _are_ my family, Hugh!

So don’t worry about any of that and just make sure you get out of this so you can return to us.

You’re a good man, Hugh. Never forget that.

Jack

-//-

Dear Dot,

thank you very much for the invitation. Of course I will be there for Hugh’s welcome home party! I wouldn’t miss it for anything. I will be very relieved to see him again and I can only imagine how much more relieved you and the children will be. Returned from war, safe and sound and once more here, where we can keep an eye on him.

I know I do not have to warn you that returning from war is not as easy as everyone would like it to be and that the transition from war to peace is a difficult one. I struggled and I’m afraid that Hugh will struggle with it as well. 

If either of both of you need any advice, I will always be glad to offer whatever support I can. The most important thing is being able to talk about it because otherwise the experiences at the front might haunt him forever.

But these are worries for the upcoming months; for now, let us be happy and drink champagne and toast our returned soldier!

See you soon, Jack

-//-

Dear Mac,

I may need your help in a matter unrelated to work. It seems the honourable Miss Phryne Fisher has passed into the realm of legends (not unexpectedly) and Stephen and his sisters demand more stories about the adventures we’ve all had. Apparently, the tidbits here and there, told over the years, are no longer sufficient and I fear they expect a thorough presentation of facts and dates. They can be a headstrong bunch!

How about we brainstorm and reminiscence with a good glass or two of that Whiskey you got me for my last birthday? I promised I’d let you share in it and this seems the perfect opportunity. Together, I’m sure we can better attempt to do her justice.

Speaking of Phryne, have you had any more news after the note about her father’s death? The loss must have been hard for her and her mother.

Please send your positive answer soon (for no other will be accepted).

Jack

-//-

Dear Stephen,

congratulations on your scholarship. It is well deserved and I know you will continue to make your parents (and godfather) proud. 

We will all miss you of course but I do believe it is important for a young man to get out of his parents’ house and see something of the world before settling down. Just make sure you send frequent letters home so we don’t have to worry too much. I wouldn’t put it past your mother to pack her bags and go after you, making sure you’re alright, otherwise. And she is very good at finding people, not only thanks to her time with Miss Fisher. 

As always, if you need anything, you know where to find me. Until then: enjoy your freedom, be diligent in your studies, and learn what you can from the world.

Love, Jack

-//-

Dear Phryne,

I was sad to hear of your mother’s passing. My most sincere condolences on your loss. She must have been a remarkable woman with a daughter like you and I regret that I never had the pleasure of meeting her.

It is a sad time for you, no doubt, but I cannot help but be glad to know that Melbourne and your friends will welcome you home soon; after too many years spent apart. Surely, it is some consolation to know that we are all eagerly awaiting your return. Much has changed these last years but the love of your friends has not.

It will be good to see you again, Phryne.

Yours, Jack


	3. Epilogue

As the Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher opened the door to let Mr Jack Robinson, retired Chief Superintendent of the Victoria police force, into her suite, the world did not stop. The cars could be heard outside, there was a busboy carrying luggage across the hall to another room, a telephone rang in the distance and the birds were trading gossip outside the window. But neither of the two people meeting for the first time, after thirty-one years spent apart, heard any of it. 

They didn’t speak, hardly blinked for the span of two long minutes until Phryne found her senses again and welcomed Jack in with a sweep of her hand. She smiled and Jack couldn’t help but think that she was as beautiful as ever, wrinkles and grey hair included. She was older, as they were all older now, but she was still Phryne Fisher, making his heart beat faster just by being near.

Jack nodded to her silent invitation and walked into the room, one hand gripping his cane harder than necessary, the other fidgeting by his side. He was glad when he was able to sit down. A cumbersome maneuver with his bad leg but one he performed as gracefully as he could. He waited for Phryne to close the door, to stride over to him with the same air of confidence she had always had, drinking in her sight. Her hair was different, not just grey but also styled differently. No doubt after the latest fashion. Her clothes were modern too, the hemline even shorter than it used to be and he realised that Phryne’s legs still fascinated him. A lot.

As Phryne sat down, she studied Jack for another moment, taking in his hair, grey and receding at the temples, his wrinkles, the hand still clasping his cane, dotted with liver spots. He had become old and for a moment, she hardly recognised him but then he smiled and with that warmth lighting up his eyes, he was her old Jack once more.

She extended her hand and placed her fingers over his, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“I’ve missed you, Jack Robinson.”

His smile deepened.

“I’ve missed you, too.”


End file.
